


Funeral Dress

by farfarawaygirl



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Hallie if you squint, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I have no control over my life, hallie has my heart, i didn’t edit this or reread, i thought I was writing something Hallie but Allie would not cooperate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27376045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfarawaygirl/pseuds/farfarawaygirl
Summary: In the end it’s just her, Gordie and Harry on either side, Will, Sam and Becca on the other side of this farce of a grave, and the Guard and Helena just standing there, as lost as Allie is.How do they go on from this? How does anyone go on from this?She drops Harry’s hand, and turns to Gordie.“Let’s go home.”
Relationships: Harry Bingham/Allie Pressman
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Funeral Dress

Helena is speaking, words about eternal rest, but Allie can’t really hear. There is this building hum in her ears, this wild, insatiable gnawing at her heart. 

Get in. It seems to says. 

Get in the ground with her. 

Allie listens. She feels the wet slide of tears in her face, and the harsh pain in her throat from sobs she can’t let out, and then it is the sensation of shifting dirt under her feet, of that silky white sheet they wrapped her in. 

Distantly she is aware that people are saying her name. Will. Gordie. Even Sam. God, even Campbell says it. She recognizes his performative voice, the one he used to get out of trouble at school and with her grandparents. Did he do this, she thinks. Did Campbell kill his own cousin?

A familiar shoe joins her in the hole, it’s Grizz, half in, half out, eyes pained as he touches her shoulder. 

Allie wants her mom. She wants her dad. 

She wants Cassandra. 

“She’s my sister.”

Grizz nods, he seems stuck, he clearly wants her to move. Wants her out of the grave. Out of the grave, what a bizarre thought, unbidden a laugh seems to build in her chest. But it is not a laugh that escapes her throat, it is an inhuman cry. Low and scared. Grizz keeps an hand on her, but is looking out at the crowd. Will and Gordie are standing their staring in a detached, scared sort of way, so Grizz flits his gaze to Sam, and by extension, Campbell and Harry who are at Sam’s elbow. 

“Allie. Get out of there right now.” Campbell’s voice has an edge to it. Sharp. Splintering. Allie ignores him. She has grabbed a corner of the sheet, her fingers wrapped tight around it. 

Then Harry is tilting her chin up, obscuring her view of the white sheet, his dark eyes concerned. “Allie.” It’s soft. The opposite of how he yelled it when Clark ran her over with the police cruiser. The word givers their between them, suspended by time and distance. “Allie.” He repeats. 

“Who did this?” Her voice breaks as she says this, maybe her heart breaks, because suddenly the tears are back. More insistent than ever. Slipping down her cheeks, soaking her shirt front. That washed out black of her dress. “Who?”

“We’re not going to find out by staying in here.”

Harry smooths her hair back off her face. Softly. Reverently, the way he had that ridiculous night of fugitive. He’s balanced precariously in front of her, crouched low with his feet wide so he doesn’t step on Cassandra. 

Grizz squeezes her shoulder, once, just enough for her to feel. 

“Come on, Al.” Harry looks so earnest, so small in the face of the wide world that Allie has to listen. When he pulls on her hand she lets go do the shroud, feels the cotton slip from her fingers. Grizz helps her from the hole, but Harry never lets go of her hand. When she is standing in the grass again, after Grizz dusts some dirt from her back and legs, Gordie takes her free hand. 

Someone starts to scatter dirt on Cassandra. Every grain of dirt, every fleck of stone is a nail into Allie’s heart. Sharp, unending. Gruesome. She never really stopped crying, hasn’t really since she sat down in the church. Luke and Grizz trade off with Jason and Clark in shifts, filling up the hole. Healing shovelful at a time. Allie waits them out. 

In the end it’s just her, Gordie and Harry on either side, Will, Sam and Becca on the other side of this farce of a grave, and the Guard and Helena just standing there, as lost as Allie is. 

How do they go on from this? How does anyone go on from this?

She drops Harry’s hand, and turns to Gordie. 

“Let’s go home.”

Gordie nods, and Allie sees the tears in his long, dark lashes. Her and Gordie will solve this themselves if they have to, and then they’ll find a way to get home.


End file.
